Necromancer Negotiation
by UKHoneyB
Summary: When a terrorist negotiation goes sour and all of the hostages are killed, it seems the only way to solve the case is to contact them in the otherworld. But necromancers don't exist, right? Crossover with Kelly Armstrong's Women of the Otherworld series.
1. Prologue

A/N: Well, this is my first official crossover, between the Max Steel universe (obviously) and Kelley Armstrong's _Women of the Otherworld_ series. If you'd like to know more about her works, visit her website and investigate the Extras Bonus Material Online Fiction where she has her novellas and short stories which tie into the series. It's un-beta'd and edited, but it'll give you an idea of her universe.

This story takes place in late 2001, placing it after the Max Steel episode _Amazon_ and after the Women of the Otherworld book _Dime Store Magic_ (the third in the series). Be warned, though, that this story contains a spoiler for the fourth book, _Industrial Magic_.

Prologue:

Fire.

Fire.

There was nothing but fire surrounding them, all of them.

Fire danced, fire twirled, fire cackled as it kept them imprisoned, darting around and blocking all of their escape routes before anyone could even think of escaping.

There were fifteen of them sealed in the firey room, a mix of ages and races, having been captured for ransom and then, when they money didn't arrive, they became a spectacle, a macabre show for their captors.

They laughed as they burned.

By the time the morning sun rose, the room was close to a hollow shell, the bodies of the people whom had died being nothing more than mummies, the captors having escaped long ago, when the last person gave up fighting the flames.

The police would arrive the next day, ruling a case of arson and calling in the FBI, CIA, local CSIs and N-Tek, as the latter had experience with the organization which had captured the people and sent the ransom note to the CIA.

Although it was said DREAD was behind this, N-Tek weren't so sure, as the MO didn't fit with what John Dread would go for.

However, any of their eye-witnesses were being zipped into body bags and loaded into cars for their journey to the local coroner's office.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One:

"I can sense a young woman...in her twenties, maybe early thirties, with brown hair. Her name...it begins with an 'S'. Sa...Sara, Samantha...no, no, Sh...Sheena, Sherryl, Shirley...yes, her name's Shirley."

Josh glanced over at the remote sitting on the armrest next to him, but couldn't summon up the energy to reach over, grab it and change the channel. He was sitting at home, bored as anything due to his most recent mission, which had landed him with a couple of bruised ribs and a nice, shiny black eye.

As a result, Rachel had ordered a few days of rest for him, and he went home, complaining all the way to no-one, or Berto, depending on your point of view.

Once home, he'd flopped into his chair, turned on the television and settled down to watch something, anything.

And thus, that was how he was watching a 'necromancer' walking around a studio, apparently in contact with a woman named Shirley. Almost as soon as the name was confirmed, a woman near the back stood up.

"That's my girl!" she yelled, tears streaming down her face. "Is she all right?"

The 'necromancer', Jaime Vegas, turned around and smiled, slowly but with more than a hint of sincerity about it. "Yes, she's fine," Jaime said. "She's happy and safe, but she misses you. Although," Jaime laughed, "she's asking if the animals are still as crazy as ever."

The woman made a strange noise, a cross between a laugh and a sob, and bought out a handkerchief to dab her eyes with. "Oh, yes, they're still a handful, especially the youngest, Billy."

Jaime went on to summon the next 'ghost', and Josh finally found the energy to change the channel, managing to land on a shopping channel rather than the sports one he was aiming for, but still, anything was better than someone preying on false hopes and dreams.

And yet...Josh could understand _why_ these people were going to such lengths. It wasn't just the idea that there was another life after this one, it was the fact that peoples' loved ones were there, able to be contacted and conversed with. For some, who'd just lost children, it was a way of reassuring themselves, and for others like Josh...it gave him the chance to talk to the parents he'd never really known.

Standing up, Josh took a deep breath and regretted it instantly when pain shot through his chest, reminding him that he was still injured. It was definitely a lot better than it had been in the middle of the mission, but it still hurt like anything.

ooooooooooooooo

Rachel winced mentally, then composed herself, trying to imagine the scene as something out of a movie, and not a grisly retelling of fifteen people's last moments on this planet. She flicked through the first few photographs of the outside of the building, then paused on on showing the fire damage.

"CSIs estimated the fire to have occurred twenty-four to thirty-six hours prior to its discovery. The only damage done was in a single room where the fifteen bodies were found, indicating premeditation as the room had to be prepared beforehand in order for the rest of the building to stay intact." A few more shots of the room, plus some from a distance, showing the area around the room to be unblemished.

Rachel stopped, taking a breather and also checking the greenness of the agents she was briefing. None appeared to look too bad, although she had the feeling that Hugins would be very quick to dash out the next time she stopped.

"All fifteen bodies were charred beyond visible recognition and, as such, dental records are being used to identify the victims." This time the images shifted to a few of the victims, their blackened bodies extremely noticeable on the light-colored stretchers used to bring them out.

"The CIA was contacted a week ago and sent a ransom note commenting on the capture of the hostages and was signed 'DREAD'. However, there is no indication that this was actually the work of the DREAD organization, which indicates that this may be either a branch organization or a newly-formed organization using DREAD's name to gain notoriety."

A second pause and, as expected, Hugins ran out of the room, covering his mouth and evidently not being able to make it to the bathroom on time, evident by the retching sounds just outside of the briefing room. Cossan wasn't too far behind, although it was assumed she made it to the bathroom, as there was no retching in stereo heard. Antebi wavered, before he, too, decided that sooner was better than later, and also disappeared.

Rachel couldn't blame them: it was extremely rare for a situation to get so out of hand that names of the deceased were included in a mission briefing. Taking a breath to calm herself down, she continued with the remainder of the briefing, and made a mental note to inform Hugins, Cossan and Antebi of the details they missed.

ooooooooooooooo

"Knock knock," Kat called out, slamming Josh's front door behind her and dropping the spare keys in her bag. "McGrath, don't tell me you actually watch this stuff?" she added, grabbing the remote and deftly changing the channel, her self-satisfied smirk disappearing when, instead of the loud metal music she expected, an episode of _Tom and Jerry_ appeared on screen.

Throwing the remote back onto the settee, Kat turned the TV off via the switch, and glanced around for Josh.

"Hey, Turbo Boy, got a mission briefing for ya," Kat said, taking it out of her bag and waving it around in what she hoped was an inviting manner. Josh walked to the top of the stairs and raised an eyebrow in a 'You cannot be serious' expression.

"Rachel put me on sick leave personally, so whatever mission is planned, it had better be good."

"Fifteen bodies found locked in a room and charbroiled to death. CIA received a ransom note a week ago from DREAD, although this stuff definitely does not scream 'John Dread was here' to me." Josh reached the bottom of the stairs, took the manila envelope from Kat, and quickly flicked through it.

"No survivors or eyewitnesses?" Josh said, snorting in mirth. "Fate loves to play a joke on me."

"What?"  
"The only way we'd be able to contact them is through a necromancer, and guess what we've got in Del Oro for a few days next week? Jaime Vegas, the famous necromancer!" Josh paused. "Or con artist to those who aren't grieving relatives."

Kat said nothing, just looked at Josh as if he had sprouted a second head.

Well, considering what else had happened to him, that wouldn't be too much of a shock if it did occur.

"Who's Jaime Vegas?" Kat said finally. "I don't watch daytime TV, in fact, I hardly ever watch TV. Too busy chasing after super-charged teenagers," she added under her breath, seeming to forget that Josh had better-than-human hearing, even when in 'Josh mode'.

Josh took to ignoring it, though, and instead turned the TV back on, flicking back to the channel he'd been watching before he got bored of Jaime's attempts at consoling the living.

Josh then explained his plan to her.

"...You're kidding, right? First off, she's considered a celebrity: how would you be able to get near her? Second, how are you going to get backstage without scaring the woman? Thirdly, _she's a fake!_ Seriously, who in that audience _hasn't_ lost an uncle, father or father-figure, or brother recently? It'd be the only reason they're there. She keeps on throwing out hints and guesses, centering on one when she sees a reaction from the audience, like a name.

"Besides, bringing a non-spy right into the counter-terrorism aspect of N-Tek? Jefferson would never go for it, even if she was authentic."

"She's a nutcase."

"As well as being a complete fake."

"And who'd believe a loony necromancer who starts talking about N-Tek secretly being a counter-terrorism organization?"

"...Okay, fine, but this is _your_ plan, so _you_ can take it to Smith."


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two:

"This is utterly insane. You're utterly insane. _She's_ utterly insane."

Kat hadn't stopped muttering variations on the same theme since Josh had informed her that he'd bought two tickets to Jaime's show, and that she had to come along -- and no excuses for her skipping out would be accepted.

"Have you even seen half the people here? Talk about _desperate_; it's most likely that she's no one special, someone trying to fool people into being a necromancer to get their money. Ghosts and vampires and werewolves and stuff? They don't exist, so all this is is a huge waste of time."

"Whatever you say," Josh said, walking through the main doors of the auditorium and taking a seat near the back, Kat reluctantly following. The room quickly filled up with a number of people: nervous teenagers, hopeful young couples, middle-aged men and women, and even a few old-aged people, all in differing styles of dress.

The lights, which had been on full blast since Josh and Kat's entrance began to dim, accompanied by music which grew louder and louder as the lights dimmed, reaching a peak before ebbing away and leaving the auditorium in darkness and silence

"This is their world," a soft, female voice said, amplified by a microphone, and Josh instantly recognizing the voice as that belonging to Jaime Vegas. "A world of peace, and beauty, and joy. A world we all wish to enter."

"'Peace-filled' usually equates to boring. If the afterlife doesn't have extreme sports, I'm not gonna like it," Kat muttered, and a man nearest her turned around to shush her, annoyance in his eyes.

"Between our world and theirs is a heavy veil. A veil most cannot lift. But I can. Come with me now and let me take you into their world. The world of the spirits." A rousse woman descended barely-visible stairs, long dress flowing around her as she moved.

She had eschewed a hand-held microphone, and instead was wearing a microphone-headphone headset, although the latter Josh had no reason for.

"There's someone here who's a long way away from home. The person who wants to talk to them traveled down along with them, wanting to watch over them, to make sure they weren't injured.

"This person is a male, looking after a female relative of his...a daughter perhaps. She was extremely spirited when she was younger and did what she wanted to do, without worrying of the repercussions. Her father was always worried about her, absolutely devastated when she got into trouble and he could do nothing about it.

"I'm getting a name...it begins with an 'N', Nathan, Nick...Nigel seems to be the name which rings true."

To his left, Kat's eyes flickered in surprise before she settled back into her 'why are we doing this?' expression, and Josh turned back to the stage to see Jaime looking straight at Kat, a similar expression of fear in her eyes, although one Josh doubted anyone would notice, even those in the front row.

Jaime waited a few moments, filling the silence with random chatter about 'Nigel', but decided to move on when no one responded to her information.

"I'm getting another male visitor, this one's younger, probably in his early to mid thirties. His name was James, but he was never called that: he was always Jim to anyone who knew him, his boss, his wife, even his children.

"He left his son when his son was four years old, although it wasn't his choice, and instead his son went to live with a friend. He's been watching his son ever since, and is proud of his achievements, even if some choices his son has made have not been what he wanted for his son."

Josh was keenly aware of two sets of eyes watching him intently: Jaime's and Kat's. Although Josh and Kat knew some segments of each other's lives, neither had high enough security clearance to browse through the personal files of N-Tek's personnel.

"C'mon, how many others have a relative named Jim? She didn't even say he was waiting for his son, just that he had one," Kat whispered into Josh's ear, but he was only half-listening. "And how many people here know of a woman who was free-spirited as a child, she didn't even say that Nigel was his name, more that it seemed to fit."

Movement beside Josh startled him, and he looked around to see Kat gathering her stuff into her arms, chucking her jacket over her shoulder before leaning down to whisper in Josh's ear.

"Stop holding on to false hopes, McGrath."

With that, Kat walked out of the auditorium, keenly watched by the other occupants.

ooooooooooooooo

"Josh McGrath? Jaime Vegas is free to talk to you," a pink-haired woman called out into the audience once the show was over, barely making herself heard over the din of all the people walking out. After the two disasters with 'Nigel' and 'Jim', Jaime had gotten back into full form, picking out relatives of people in the audience, native or not, and produced what was seen as a successful show.

Kat, after her disappearance, hadn't returned, and Josh suspected that she'd either gone home and was finding the trashiest show she could on TV and thoroughly MSTing it, or had holed herself up in one of N-Tek's gyms and was busy ensuring that a new shipment of equipment would be needed the next day.

"My name's Kat," the woman said, shaking Josh's hand once they were close enough. "Jaime's in the back winding down from the show, although I'd advise you not to interrupt her just yet; she's still recovering from her earlier problems."

Josh raised an eyebrow. "'Problems'?"

Kat nodded. "The two spirits she made contact with at the beginning of the show, the ones who didn't have any relatives in the audience. Never happened to her before, I think she's beginning to wonder what's happening to her skill."

Josh didn't want to comment that he had suspicions that the two 'problem' spirits were his and Kat's fathers, and that neither answered because they were more there so they could talk to Jaime rather than contacting any dead relatives or friends.

"Well, anyway, follow me," Kat said, walking back onto the stage and towards the backstage entrance/exit, where the steps which had been painstakingly erected were now being painstakingly removed.

Josh followed, keeping eyes, nose and ears alert, memorizing the route Kat was taking so that he'd be able to find his way out, if necessary.

After a few minutes, Kat knocked on the door and waited for an answer, knocking again when she didn't get an answer.

"I'm busy," Jaime called faintly through the door, and Kat looked at Josh and shrugged.

"You've got a visitor," Kat yelled through the door, and a few seconds later the sounds of someone rushing to the door could be heard, knocking over varying objects along the way, and Jaime yanked open the door.

"I'm --" Josh began, but didn't get any further before he was interrupted by Jaime.

"Josh McGrath, I've heard a lot about you. Come in," she said, beckoning him in and shutting the door behind him, leaving Kat standing in the hallway, alone.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter Three:

Josh didn't question how she knew so much about him: she was in her forties and didn't seem like the kind of person who'd regularly watch sports with her free time, but then she could have a few Jo-aged kids running around who were infatuated with him.

"Take a seat," she said, and Josh did so, moving a couple of bouquets of flowers from a stall in order to find somewhere to sit down. Jaime followed suit, taking some sips out of a bottle of blue-colored Gatorade.

"I hear you're in need of my assistance," Jaime continued, and Josh's ears pricked up at this. When Jefferson had called he'd only detailed that a Josh McGrath was interested in talking to Jaime, and left no indication of why.

"What makes you say that?" Josh said, doing his best to sound calm and in control.

"The only people who come and ask for a 'private séance' are either the type with a lot of money to spend, or need to contact someone in the afterlife." Jaime took another sip from her bottle. "Judging from the way you dress you don't seem like the sort to have money...but your convertible outside tells a different story."

Jaime cocked her head to one side, as if listening to a second, separate conversation before batting her hand at the empty air and returning to the conversation between herself and Josh.

"Quite the little predicament you've got yourself into, though: fifteen people dead and no witnesses, and nothing which indicates the organization claiming responsibility has actually done anything. So, for that, you decided to try and see if I could help you."

Again, Jaime cocked her head, but this time smiled. "Ah, I thought so: the Jim I was talking to during the performance _was_ your father. How come you didn't want to hear from him?"

"'Cause you tell everyone the same thing: that whatever relative or friend it is, that they're happy and safe, but missing their earth-bound relatives and friends. How do I know that that's what my dad is really saying? How do I know you're not a fake, how do I know that you're really talking to him right now?"

"Because he's standing here, telling me about how you used to crawl into his bed every night, frightened that the Ugur monster from Planet Kreides would eat your legs while you were sleeping."

"Wai-what?" Josh was momentarily lost for words. "No one but --"

"No one but your biological father knows about that little fact. You were too embarrassed to tell Jefferson Smith about it, right?" Jaime smiled at the look of confusion on Josh's face. "Ghosts can see a lot more than you think they're able to."

"Okay," Josh said, regaining his composure. "Let's say I believe you, and that you know who I work for. Can you --"

"Even if I couldn't keep my mouth shut, do you really think anyone would believe me?" _I was going to phrase it better,_ Josh thought, but said nothing. "Jaime Vegas, world-renowned necromancer starts blabbing on about N-Tek secretly being a counter-terrorism organization. Trust me, the ones who believe I'm insane already will just turn a blind eye, and the ones who believe I really am a necromancer...well, they ignore anything I say unless it's about ghosts."

"Nothing to gain, yet nothing to lose. Why _are_ you so inclined to help us?"

Jaime shrugged, "Call it karma, fate, or whatever you want. If I hadn't have been in Del Oro today, you hadn't gotten tickets, and your father hadn't turned up...well, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now."

"All right. Tell me what you need me to do."

ooooooooooooooo

"I'm not convinced," Kat muttered in a sing-song voice, standing behind Max with her arms crossed. "No, I'm not impressed, oh I ain't impressed, we're taking advice from a necro, a necro a necro a cooky, crazy necro..."

Max glared at her, miming zipping his mouth closed, and concentrated on picking the lock, opening the door a few seconds later.

"...she communicates with the dead, or so she says; a schizoid, paranoid, hearing-voices kinda girl..."

Max sighed in exasperation and stepped over the threshold, grabbing the flashlight hanging from his utility belt and switching it on, quickly glancing around the room.

"No one here," he said, making himself heard over Kat's repeat of what appeared to be the chorus. "And just for the record, you sing like someone's torturing you."

Kat stopped mid-word and glared at Max, shoving past him and checking out the rest of the house without another word.

"I got something," she said, returning with a sheaf of papers in her hand. "Details on one Cody Rosalez, probably the guy who lives here. No idea why she wanted them, but hey..."

Max took the papers and glanced through them, seeing nothing of interest and instead shoving them under his arm.

"C'mon, we got what we wanted, now let's go before someone notices and calls the cops."

"Oh, we can get out of it," Kat said, smirking. "We just say we're necromancers trying to solve a crime." Kat began to walk away, singing once more. "A necro, you don't know? She communicates with the dead, or so she says; A schizoid, paranoid, hearing-voices kinda girl..."

ooooooooooooooo

"What did you want that file for?" Jaime asked, seemingly talking to air -- or so it would have seemed from a non-necromancer's perspective. Instead, she was talking to a male in his late-twenties who was 'sitting' on a nearby chair while she did Yoga.

"It's a hunch," the man said, blue eyes focused on the middle distance. He would have said more had Jaime's cell phone started ringing, and she untangled herself to answer it.

"Hello...you got it? Great...no, my next show's in two days' time...I'll meet you there tomorrow morning then? Bye." Ending the call, she looked at the ghost and smiled. "Either your son has a lot of talents, or he works undercover as a burglar. They've got the information."

"He's...talented," the ghost said, smiling. "Smoke and Mirrors."


End file.
